


They Call Me Snake

by NightDawning



Category: Original Work
Genre: Distopia, Future Fic, Genetic Engineering, Genetically Engineered Beings, Multi, Non-Human Humanoid Society, OC, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Pangea Ultima, Rating May Change, manymanymany years in the future, some made up words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 13:11:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15950045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightDawning/pseuds/NightDawning
Summary: It's been 100 years since what's now called "The Merging", scientists say that all the land masses were once one giant landmass called Pangea, and that it would eventually become whole again.They were right.In New Pangea, or Pangea Ultima, it's the year 234009653. Science has progressed where, if you can pay the right price, you can have your body genetically modified. Some choose to get tails, some get fur all-over, some even get talons, sharper teeth, or feathers. Some grow tall as Giants, some choose to grow muscles. Anything you want, is possible.However for the less fortunate, food is scarce, disease rakes across the land, and the rulers of most provinces are harsh and cruel.In this new world, Theo has survived on her own since she was 7. 11 years later she is now the leader of The Fangs. All members call her "Snake" because of the deadly ferocity with which she carries herself, and the way she fights with her two rapiers.The group consists of over 5,000 members, and only a few hundred have even seen their leader , and only from a distance, even less know what her real name and age are. In fact only 6 people, her council, know these things.





	They Call Me Snake

**Author's Note:**

> This is a completely original story idea I had and is still currently in the making along with many other things, so just to be forward about my intentions; this story will not be updated regularly. I will most likely only post once I have a whole other chapter written and am happy with it. So I hope you lovelies like it.

The Beginning (Theo Age:16)  
The sun setting low over the horizon bathes the bustling town in a reddish hue; the town is at its busiest time of day. Caravaners are marked by their simple cloths and strange hooved feet, twisting horns atop their mussy hair, long horizontal pupils, and huge bags on their backs, seemingly weightless to them. Blinking blue lights embedded in the backs of their necks, easy to spot. This tech was used so they could track each other, and make sure no one got lost on the long journeys they took through deserts and forests. You could tell one herd from another by the color of the light. They were of great numbers, usually at least 8 in one herd, and were handing their goods to their buyers and restocking for the next journey. Signing or giving the seal of the provider on small tablets that glowed red until the given proof was authenticated. The city was far too unadvanced for any droids to live here yet, so they were dependant on those tablets. Tablets that were easily hacked or tampered with. Being in the business I am in, it’s something that’s important for me to know.  
The lilting sound of singing voices mixed and swam through the streets, music that hailed the performance of a group of gypsies, The Menagerie. The melancholic yet passionate sound of the accordion, fidla, symbols, balkan, and bongos being played together rose from the bustle of the town. Their long vibrantly colored skirts adorned with different styles of pop-light designs swishing in the dirt. Pop-lights were a special kind of decoration that the gypsies invented, it was a light that with each motion or dance they performed would seem to sparkle, pop, and sizzle in time with them. Their hip scarves, adorned with tiny symbols released a tinkling sound, and the many bracelets and anklets carried bells, producing a sound that made any unaware wanderer entranced. They are all a different form of cat; the lead dancer, Victorii, was a cheetah, with her long, dotted tail swaying with the movements of her body, the two girls on either side of her were a tiger and a lioness. Their faces were decorated to match their animal, and their stomachs covered in whatever design the cat had. They attracted traders from far off Provinces, who naively were taken in by them, while the rest of their group would slip through the gathered crowd, quietly picking pockets.  
I glance at the gypsy girls as I speed past, and Victorii winks at me, not once missing a beat. I roll my eyes, the whole clutter knew me personally. Victorii, or her stage name Chee, was the one that fed me on the days that food was scarce to be found or stolen. She became a close partner and friend, I often pick pocketed with them on the days I had nothing else better to do.  
But today was different. 

My bare feet slap against the hot cobblestones as I race around yet another corner. For those who did not know these streets, the town would seem like one giant maze, unless you had a map. But, for those like me who knew ever dip and crack of the pavement, and every building, every filth hole, every cranny that I could possibly fit inside, who needs a map?  
The guards of my town were new, and had no idea what they signed themselves up for when they took on this part of the city. It's funny how they never wonder why the guards who used to be here, requested a different post.  
Heh, and maybe, just maybe, it had something to do with me.  
“Stop! Thief!" the shouts of the soldiers behind me spur me faster. I twist and look over my shoulder smirking as I see they have easily fallen far behind me. I glide through an alley that leads me deeper into the heart of the city. The sounds of carts and bartering echoes through it, it's own melody. I reach beside me, constantly making sure my pack was there, otherwise it would all be for not. I surge from the alley into the busy street, dodging people and launching myself over carts that were in the way. I still hear the heavy thump of their spit shined boots behind me, but they sound even further away now, trying to get through the thick assemblage of people. . A smile spreads across my lips as I see a familiar face stand out in the waves of people.  
I leave it to you now, Crow.  
I say quietly in my head, as I pass a boy with black feathers slicked back on top of his head, instead of hair. I vault on top of one of the moving carts, them swing myself up onto the roof of a nearby building, crouching low so I may watch.  
Once I hear him shout out to the guards to stop, and the pounding dies, I peek out over the edge.  
"Good jundis, what seems to be the problem?" Crow asks politely using the respectful word for soldier instead of what most of us street shadows use; aljalib, fetchers.  
There's a pause and I see the front guard who, instead of wearing a grey vest, wears a bronze vest. The vests were practically impenetrable, meaning no ordinary bullet or blade could pierce through the heavy cloth.  
Assumingly the leader, he looks Crow up and down, taking in his crisp, spotless, white shirt, his untorn pants, brown leather shoes, and lastly: the feathers atop his pale face. All this marks him as a Clean-Hand. The title was made long ago, to symbolize that the wealthy had clean hands, they never did anything dirty, unlike those of us of the street, nicknamed Dirty-Hands.  
You can practically mark the moment he realizes who he's speaking to. He bows low at the waist as the other 4 guards drop to one knee.  
"Please excuse us, Sir Crow. We were on the trail of a girl. She had stolen something from the crypts below the Holy Circle and we just wanted to get it back, and see justice fulfilled." By the end of his speech he, and the rest of his patrol had stood back up. A small crowd had stopped to see what was going on.  
Crow feigns confusion and explains that he saw a girl running by him just moments ago, but dismissed it as mere play of the riff-raff.  
"She went that way," he points a finger towards a street that leads out of their rounds to patrol, "do tell me if you find her." His face contorts in a frown with his eyebrows furrowed heavily. With that the guards speed off in the direction he pointed in, the complete opposite of where I was, and where I was heading.  
The crowd wasn't gone yet. So I stayed where I was.  
"As you were!" Crow's voice rings out into the air. Immediately the people continue on their way, as if nothing happened. I breathe a sigh of relief.  
Crow’s shoulders sag, and he moves on. I follow him to a small hotel a mile from the confrontation. I wait for a minute or so, and then one of the 3rd floor windows opens and a silver coin is thrown out of the window. I clutch my pack in one hand and catch the coin with the other. I count the windows, 12, and race back to the front of the hotel. Avoiding the gaze of the man at the front desk, I slip up the stairs that are on the opposite of the room. I climb to the third floor then count 12 doors on one side.  
I knock on the door, and, as always, Crow’s voice comes from the door.  
"What is it?" Crow asks. I sigh heavily, not knowing why we have to do this every time.  
"It seems the moon will shine brightly this night." I reply. The door swings open, and Crow smiles warmly.  
“Theodosia, as always, right on time.”  
I roll my eyes and step around him and enter the room. I set my pack on the top of a table that sits in the room, and slump into the chair. Crow looks both ways out the door, before closing it. I give him a hard look.  
“You know that I don’t like you calling me that name.” He laughs jovially.  
“Yes but it always gets a hilarious reaction from you.” I shake my head in defeat, then exhale heavily.  
"Honestly, I don't know why we still do the code words. I’m not scared of some puny, dull, aljalib." I lull my head back while he laughs again. I look back up. Crow's 28 now, and he's changed a lot. He's taller and got a bit more scruff on his chin. His muscles are lean and refined, and he's got a stronger air about him. He's starting to grow his feathers longer as well. I think back to the awkward 11 year old boy that I first met when I was 5. The one who saved me. He's like a brother to me. Family. Someone I need to protect, and someone who I can trust to protect me too.  
"You know why. What if it had been someone else at that door? You and I both know it’s only a matter of time until the city starts investing in soldiers with Commodas. Anybody who's anybody in Tantsi knows of the Ghool. You steal under a guise and then disappear. They can’t ever catch you using normal means, and you’ve got too many allies to be ratted out..." He shakes his head before moving to the package. He looks down at it in apprehension.  
Commodas are the word for people who’ve gotten genetically enhanced. Many cities are now paying for their soldiers to get them so that they can better perform their duties. Some have gotten soldiers who can see in the dark, fly, have impeccable hearing and smell, or who can sense thermal energy. However our small town of Tantsi is too poor right now to be able to pay for even a legion of soldiers to get enhanced. Plus, almost every guard has his price, as every person does as well. In this world, you take justice for yourself, else it might never be given. I’ve been lucky in that regard for a long time, but it all could change, and I could be hung, or worse.  
"So, did you get them?" He asks. I wave my hand dismissively, before beginning to massage the bottoms of my feet. I was taught to move through the streets barefooted by Victorii, so I wouldn’t make much noise, so I have gathered quite a bit of calluses on my feet.  
"When have I ever failed?" I snort.  
He unwraps it almost reverently, his eyes shining in the dim candle light. Once it's completely unwrapped he holds it up to the light. 6 black feather throwing knives glint in the light. All about 4 inches in length. The edge of the wing was nearly paper thin, and there was a small hole at the bottom of each one, where you would tie a string or a ribbon so you could throw it and retrieve quickly and cleanly. They are said to have been plucked from a tengu while he slept, resulting in the tengus ultimate demise. Their feathers are what gave them power, and just that little amount taken was enough to weaken the demon enough to slay him. The hero, whose name was long forgotten, kept them as a trophy. If you believed in such things that is. They were said to be almost as sharp, if not sharper, than obsidian. He looks at them in awe. He sets them carefully back in the cloth and wraps them up again. He doesn't have to say anything, I know that he's grateful  
"Now. Payment..." I trail off. He usually pays me in money, but occasionally he would buy me something as well. Oh yes, I have much more comfortable clothes, and shoes I might add, though it’s on very rare occasions I wear them. However for jobs like this, I make myself look younger and more pitiful, just in case I get caught. My dark brown hair hangs down in a long braid behind me, and I wear a simple tan cloth shirt with pigs hide breeches.  
He smiles, and I know he's up to something.  
"Crow..." I rumble, fearful. He slips over to a closet I had previously taken no notice of before, and retrieves a long chestnut box from inside. A giddy feeling runs through me, and I jump up as he sets it down on the bed. He steps back allowing me access to it. I unlatch it, and gasp.  
Inside sit two of the most beautiful rapiers I have ever seen. One has two silver snakes on the pommel that wrap around each other, with a single onyx in the center. The other is the same except the snakes were bronze and there was a white opal in the middle. The matching scabbards were black tungsten that was etched and then filled with liquid diamond to look like stars. I unsheath them both. I run my fingers down the blades, the one with the onyx is an obsidian blade, the edges tapering to seem almost clear, one of the sharpest materials ever known. The one with the opal had a diamond blade, both were deadly. Crow smirks at my aghast expression.  
“Where did you get these?” It comes out only louder than the quietest whisper.  
“I have a friend up in the Sempiternal Mountains. Two years ago I ordered them for you, knowing you would one day need to make a new name for yourself. Their the only ones of their kind.”  
“Where did he find so much obsidian, I’ve only ever seen small knives of them in the archives in the port. It said there was no more obsidian left after the merging, that it was all lost, buried in the Endless Ocean…” I trail off my eyes never once leaving the blades, diamonds were another rarity, only small patches of them are found on the coasts of Pangea Ultima, and they are guarded so heavily only the richest of the rich own them anymore, not that the economy is very good for them. If only the wealthiest people can buy them, rounding to about 5% of the population of Pangea Ultima, once they get as much as they want, or if they don’t want them, those mines just sit. Not being used, costing them, but not really bringing any revenue.  
These swords could easily be worth 8 million giutes.  
This is way too extravagant! They must've cost a fortune! I know he's rich, but this is too much!  
I back away from them slowly, knowing what I have to do.  
"Crow this is way too much. I can't take these. My work is not this expensive, I'd never make you pay me this much-" he silences me with a hand.  
"Just shut up and take them. It's not that difficult." He removes his hand from my mouth, and I sigh in defeat, he pats my head. I look back at them, unable to take my eyes off them for more than a second, fearful that this may be some wicked dream and I’d wake up with nothing.  
“How the hell did he even etch tungsten? Who is this guy?” Crow merely shrugs.  
“I didn’t ask. Of course they’re too big for you right now, you’ll have to grow into them.”  
Looks like I'm going to have to find a teacher.  
"I know what you're thinking. You need a teacher." I nod. "And you have no clue where to find one," another nod " well just so happens I know a guy." A very enthusiastic nod.  
"However it is in Kalon." I freeze. Surely he doesn't mean...those are the lands of (put cool mysterious intimidating gang name here). Said to be one of the strongest powers left in the world, second only to the province of Galeir in the North-East. I start to get excited. I'd finally get to get out of this city where nothing ever happens. It would always be a type of home to me, but nothing too special.  
“How are we going to get there?” I wonder aloud.  
“I was thinking of going with a caravan there, but that’s not solid yet. If you can find another way that’d be good.” By the time the last syllable is out of his mouth, I’m already changing into another outfit Crow brought to the inn for me to change into, tossing the other cloths into a trash bin. Made out of Cugian cotton, it was a long sleeved shirt and long pants, they were form fitting and breathed well, the perfect type of clothing for one like myself. It is a stretchable cloth so it’s basically one size fits all. I slip on the garter sheath that would be hidden underneath a plain scarf I wear around my waist, and slid the dagger in. I had two more daggers that would go on either sides of my waist. They were simple, but had served me well over the years. I wrapped my feet in two leather straps that I had coated in a special liquid Crow had paid me with once, allowing them to be used many times over, and never wear.  
“What about your parents Crow?” I ask without looking at him, knowing it is a touchy subject. There was a long reign of silence, where the only sound was our combined breaths.  
“I’ve told them that I’ll be leaving, and that I'm claiming my inheritance. I did not say where or for how long, they did not ask.” The ring of finality in his voice stops me from inquiring any further.  
“Well I think I’ve got another option than waiting around for a herd to come into town that is heading to Kalon. Meet me outside of the city gates in 3 hours.” Crow didn’t even look surprised, he just shook his head with a smile, and nodded. The last article of clothing I put on is a decorated scarf over my head. Before I left, I threw over my shoulder, “Protect my rapiers!” Then I slip out the door, and out of the inn quickly.  
I take a different route than I came to get to the Menagerie, knowing it would be crawling with aljalibs by now. Jogging through the streets; my eyes seeking out easy targets on instinct. The man who kept patting his front pocket where his wallet would no doubt be, the wealthy lady who stupidly left her cart unattended, the caravaners who were getting drunk after a good day’s pay, their pockets jingling loudly. I shake my head, I don’t need money right now. It was one of my few morals. If you don't need it, don't take it unless someone's paying you to.  
When I reach them, The Menagerie is packing up, fixing to leave town to set up camp in the surrounding woods. A bit more simply dressed now, the clutter moved around, placing boxes and instruments into their cart. Their hair is always up in some fashion if they are not performing, and though they all hold pretty faces, only an idiot would misjudge them, each carries at least 3 daggers on them at all times; something I picked up while being trained; and at least one firearm.  
Victorii was the first to spot me.  
“Theo, dear! I saw you earlier today, running from those aljalib. I always knew you were going to get into lots of trouble, even when you were just a kit. What did Crow have you get this time? A precious book of secrets, a robe that can make the wearer much more intelligent - oh I know, a vial of Invisible Death.” She pressed her forehead to mine, and stroked the back of my head, chuckling slightly, a noise that sounded more like an amused hum. Her silky smooth voice, so pleasant to the ear, and the way she greeted me, made all the tension in my body vanish instantly. It reminded me so much of my mother’s voice, though it did help that the Menagerie were all Aloakonian, providing their beautiful voices, and exotic creamy golden skin. A skin tone that matched my own, for that was my homeland, where I was born. It was for that reason that Victorii recognised me as a child, and decided to help me. I would like to think that she would have helped me anyways, but I would never know.  
By now, the rest of the clutter had become aware of my arrival, they all crowded around me, touching me, and playing with my hair. Somehow they had moved us inside their cart, it was furnished with lusciously soft pillows and blankets, with perches and rafters on the top. There were after-effects that came to being genetically modified, sometimes they would take on some of the actual characteristics of the specific animal. Since the were all cats, the liked to hang out and sleep in perches. Another one of the side effects was their unnaturally colored eyes, and elongated pupils, mimicking the genetics of the felines they loved. But the touching was because we were Aloakonian. Aloakonians were very physical, if you had personal boundaries, don’t go to Aloakon. We touched for almost everything, a greeting of friends was the touching of hair and pressing your foreheads together, quite similar to that of a family member. A greeting of strangers was grasping each other's hands then running your hand up the other person's arm, and across the shoulders, a greeting of lovers or couples was touching of the neck and face. It was basically the same for departing. They were all taking turns unbraiding, and braiding my hair back up again, when one suggested that they make tiny little braids all throughout my hair, which was met with enthusiastic rumbles from the whole clutter.  
“Actually he sent me to get the feathers of a tengu.” Overdone gasps were heard about the room until we all dissolved in laughter.  
“As expected of our little Ghool,” cried Meraki, her animal was a tiger, with blazing orange hair with occasional black streaks in it, hazel eyes, standing 5’10, age 24, she was the most dependable of the group. Second only to Victorii, it was an unspoken rule that if Victorii wasn’t there, she was in charge. After we had all stopped laughing, I spoke up again.  
“I was wondering about something though…” I trailed off and they got quiet, listening closely, “You see, it’s time for me to move on from Tantsi. I have to go and make a new name for myself, and Crow is coming with me to help. Would you all be interested?” I wait silently, until they start sniggering, building into a crescendo of laughter.  
“Oh,” Nycto gets out in between bouts of laughter, “don’t you know by now that we are with you Theo? The whole clutter would do anything for you.” They all sober up to nod in agreement, stroking me in affection and assurance. Nycto is panther with obsidian black hair, and electric green eyes, and standing at 6 feet ’’she seemed to like playing on the ‘broody, unapproachable, and mysterious’ air that naturally surrounded her when speaking with people outside of the clutter. She is 20, and though she is often soft-spoken, when she did deem to talk it was either serious or sarcastic.  
I settle again, feeling stupid for doubting them for even one second.  
“So,” Himanshi pipes up, “where are we going?” Himakshi finishes. The two leopards, one a snow leopard Himanshi, the other a normal leopard Hemakshi, are twins they both stand at 5’8 even, age 18, and they both have one blue eye and one gray-green eye. Eerily similar, they think as a single mind rather than two separate minds, it is a common belief that they even breath at the same time. They are definitely the mediators, whereas the younger ones might have problems with the older ones, they know how to diffuse a situation and make both sides know what the other is going through.  
I smile and glance at all their eager faces.  
“Kalon.” The whole clutter erupts in shouts of joy.  
“We have performed there before, it was fantastic, not to mention everyone there is a Clean Hand.” Kef put in wagging her eyebrows suggestively. She is the lioness with wavy sunflower blonde hair to match her animal, and yellow eyes, she stood just slightly smaller than Victorii at 5’11, and she is 26. Like an overbearing mother figure of the group, she was quick to deal out doubts, and chastisement. However, that was only if you were worrying or displeasing her, all other times she would be encouraging, and helpful in all other affairs from her express knowledge of court to how to steal a pocket-watch straight out of a man’s hand...while he was looking at it. She was that good, her and Victorii grew up in the same town together, and they were the original starters of the Menagerie.  
“And foolish.” Eunoia giggled while bumping Mansi, sharing some hidden secret with their eyes. Eunoia is the bobcat with bronze hair, hazel eyes, who stands at 5’3, and is 16; the youngest of the clutter. The lynx is Mansi with silver hair, and grey eyes. She stood at 5’6, and is 17. Wee demons, they were. Always out for a mischief, they’d steal anything that fancied them, not entirely grasping the ‘only when necessary’ rule. The only thing was, they were never caught, all they had to do was throw on the big eyes, and innocent faces and all people dismissed them.  
“Then it’s settled then.” Victorii nods, and looks into my eyes, The cheetah, of course, is Victorii. Standing at 6’1 she is the tallest of the clutter, with shaggy golden blonde hair with black dots and amber eyes, she is also the oldest at 28. A natural born leader and strong-willed to the core, she was the creator of The Menagerie. Her will made her a strict leader, but only because she cared too much for her clutter to let them do stupid things. She taught me the basics of survival on the streets when she took me under her wing when I was 8, and I’ve worked with her ever since. She has invited me to become a part of the Menagerie so many times, I have lost count, but I always refuse, occasionally they will get me to learn a dance, but I never actually perform with them. The only dancing I ever do is with them when we go traveling. We make a huge bonfire and dance through night, particularly after a good catch.  
“When are you wanting to leave?” She looks at me expectantly.  
“By dawn, so we’ve got some work to do.” As one we stand and exit the cart, Victorii starts giving orders.  
“Nycto and Meraki stay and guard the cart, twins, we are going to need enough food to get us to the next major city which means; about a week's worth, only canned or dry though, we can hunt on the way. Kef, you’ve got water duty with Eunoia and Mansi. Theo and I will take care of the rest.” We all stand still for a time, “Rapio exire…” Victorii starts.  
“Unguis aperio!” We say back. The Menagerie’s own motto, ‘Claws out, fangs bared’, used as if saying good luck when departing.  
With that we all spread out. Victorii and I begin the trek to my den. It’s on the other side of Tantsi, in the less patrolled areas of the town. Climbing onto roofs and sprinting through streets, we easily keep up with each other having worked together for so long. The perks to being trained by a cat-like person, and gypsy were these; you would learn to never make noise whether it be running or simply walking, you would learn to see a hell of a lot better in the dark, or suffer the consequences, you would learn to assess every person you laid your eyes upon, their strengths and weaknesses, and above all you would learn the four basic morals the Menagerie swear by:  
One, never steal when unnecessary (unless you’re being paid to).  
Two, never take advantage of a child, it is not their fault they are weaker and more naive, but never underestimate one either. You never know when an innocent face can be hiding a very uninnocent intent.  
Three, the people you value come before everything else. No matter what circumstance, you protect those who you care for.  
Four, only kill if absolutely necessary, show mercy, however remember that the same will not always be given.  
We reach the street that my den is on, and dropped from the current roof we had sprinted on top of. I unlock the door of the cellar under one of the many taverns we have in Tantsi, called Nepenthe, I was the only one, besides the tavern owner, who had a key to the cellar. The tavern owner, a quaint old woman, had let me stay there since I entered Tantsi, the rent was cheap, and she would never tell the aljalib where I was. One condition was I had to play the violin every so often there, claiming I was the best violin player she’d ever heard, which I always denied. I would make sure to leave her a note telling of my departure.  
Once we were under, and past all the dregs of wine, beer, rum, and ale, there was a small trap door at the far back. I pulled on the handle, and at first glance all you saw was dark murkiness, and it smelled right foul. Except, I knew the truth. Years ago Crow had payed me in a small disk projector. Only after consulting Kef did I find out what I could possibly use it for. I was always worried that someone would find my den, despite the tavern keepers assurances, and so Kef helped me program it to cast a type of disguise. Voice commanded it manipulates light and air particles so that it can alter your senses, normally used by Clean Hands if they couldn't actually travel, they could experience it all the same. I place it right at the bottom of the ladder leading down into my den, so the projection faces directly at any nosey person who somehow got into the cellar, or any searching aljalib. Kef helped me program it to where the closer to the projector you got the worse the smell got, and the only way to turn it off was by voice-recognition. It only responds to me whistling the first three notes to a song my father used to sing to me.  
After the projector goes off, I slip down the wooden ladder, quickly followed by Victorii. My den is better than any of the above floor rooms in the tavern. Lined with a hybrid of marble and granite, the floor was made of silver oak, and it was the span of the whole tavern. I predicted it used as a type of protective bunker, since it was so deep underground ground, for some kind of Clean-Hand, but during the merging they packed up and never came back.  
I had a simple bed in one corner, a metal dresser across from it, a fireplace on the far wall, and a small kitchen station on the side the ladder drops down on. The fireplace funnel connected to the tavern’s fireplace, so the smoke funneled out with it.  
I immediately dropped to the floor beside my bed and fished out my small metal box. It contained all the money I owned and my most precious possession. A small memory chip, something that at first glance, anybody would dismiss. It contained most of my memories of my parents. With it, I can plug it into any comp, any tablet, any holo screen, or even my holo projector. I could watch my memories, and relive them. Something much better than having to remember fuzzy images. After the accident that resulted in my parents death, I suffered from amnesia, the only thing I really remembered was Alokan and blurry faces of the people I knew before; including my parents. It was one of the first things Crow did for me, was give me the gift of remembering my parents. Shaped like a pyramid, it had a small hole at the top that you could loop a string through. The only way it would work though is by scanning my eye retina. I clutch it to my chest, and stand back up with the box.  
Victorii is smiling at me, and takes the box from me when I ask her to hold it. I don’t have to worry about her taking it, because she would never do that, plus it too little for her to want any. Consisting of only a few pieces of paper money called giutes, and a small purse of silver coins.  
I go to my dresser and pull out another, slightly bigger bag than the one I normally carry to transport things for Crow, and put it on my bed. I pull the money bag out of the box Victorii holds and stuff the bills in as well before putting it in the very bottom of my bag. Along with it I put the disk projected at the bottom once I placed it in its casing. I go back to my dresser and put four sets of pants and five sets of shirts in the bag. I also take underwear and a few socks. The only shoes I owned were a pair of running shoes that were barely worn and a pair of boots if only worn once. The wouldn't go in the bag so I set them beside it on the bed. Next I go to my pantry and bring some dry food and several bottles of water. That filled up my bag, so I grab my shoes and was ready to go. I turned back to Victorii, who grabbed my shoes from me before I could protest, and climbs up the ladder with them between her teeth. I roll my eyes and follow her up, taking one last look down before closing the trap door.  
My new life was about to begin.


End file.
